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On mine certainly none will fall- no sunbeam
brings thanks to me, for here there is nothing worthy of thanks. I
shall not get the patent lacquer," said Ole, "for my fate on earth
is only grease, after all."
SECOND VISIT
It was New Year's day, and I went up on the tower. Ole spoke of
the toasts that were drunk on the transition from the Old Year into
the New- from one grave into the other, as he said. And he told me a
story about the glasses, and this story had a very deep meaning.
And he told me a
story about the glasses, and this story had a very deep meaning. It
was this:
"When on the New Year's night the clock strikes twelve, the people
at the table rise up with full glasses in their hands, and drain these
glasses, and drink success to the New Year. They begin the year with
the glass in their hands; that is a good beginning for drunkards. They
begin the New Year by going to bed, and that's a good beginning for
drones. Sleep is sure to play a great part in the New Year, and the
glass likewise.
Do you know what dwells in the glass?" asked Ole. "I
will tell you. There dwell in the glass, first, health, and then
pleasure, then the most complete sensual delight; and misfortune and
the bitterest woe dwell in the glass also. Now, suppose we count the
glasses- of course I count the different degrees in the glasses for
different people.
"You see, the first glass, that's the glass of health, and in that
the herb of health is found growing. Put it up on the beam in the
ceiling, and at the end of the year you may be sitting in the arbor of
health.
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A woman, a
tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The tom cat, whom the
mistress called, "My little son," was a great favorite; he could raise
his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it
were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was
called "Chickie short legs." She laid good eggs, and her mistress
loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning, the
strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the
hen to cluck.
In the morning, the
strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the
hen to cluck.
"What is that noise about?" said the old woman, looking round
the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore, when she saw the
duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from
home. "Oh what a prize!" she exclaimed, "I hope it is not a drake, for
then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see." So the
duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there
were no eggs.
So the
duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there
were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen
was mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," for they
believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too. The
duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the
subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts. "Can you lay
eggs?" she asked. "No." "Then have the goodness to hold your
tongue."
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And then she stuck out
her pretty little arms, and made the elbows quite pointed, to show how
it was to be done; and her little arms were very pretty, for she was a
sweet-looking child.
But the little daughter of the merchant became very angry at
this speech, for her father's name was Petersen, and she knew that the
name ended in "sen," and therefore she said as proudly as she could,
"But my papa can buy a hundred dollars' worth of bonbons, and give
them away to children. Can your papa do that?"
"Yes; and my papa," said the little daughter of the editor of a
paper, "my papa can put your papa and everybody's papa into the
newspaper.
Can your papa do that?"
"Yes; and my papa," said the little daughter of the editor of a
paper, "my papa can put your papa and everybody's papa into the
newspaper. All sorts of people are afraid of him, my mamma says, for
he can do as he likes with the paper." And the little maiden looked
exceedingly proud, as if she had been a real princess, who may be
expected to look proud.
But outside the door, which stood ajar, was a poor boy, peeping
through the crack of the door. He was of such a lowly station that
he had not been allowed even to enter the room.
He was of such a lowly station that
he had not been allowed even to enter the room. He had been turning
the spit for the cook, and she had given him permission to stand
behind the door and peep in at the well-dressed children, who were
having such a merry time within; and for him that was a great deal.
"Oh, if I could be one of them," thought he, and then he heard what
was said about names, which was quite enough to make him more unhappy.
His parents at home had not even a penny to spare to buy a
newspaper, much less could they write in one; and worse than all,
his father's name, and of course his own, ended in "sen," and
therefore he could never turn out well, which was a very sad
thought.
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